


Albatross (Let It Go)

by ZarryFTZouis



Series: Chrissy's Oneshots [42]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (sorry about lack of Liam), Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Caddy Zayn, Golfer Harry, Golfer Niall, M/M, caddy louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarryFTZouis/pseuds/ZarryFTZouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is the champion junior golfer and Niall is the best golfer in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albatross (Let It Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bastille's "Weight Of Living Pt 1".

_“There it is! The legendary Eagle at Hole 18 of Tobiano, the only Eagle that’s been recorded live at the time! True to the words, Horan is the new Tiger Woods of golf world!”_

That was the highlight of the week at Gold Channel, something Harry watches every day even though he was just a junior masters champion last year. At seventeen, Harry is still on the weak side when it comes to yardage, with 230-yard driver range.

“Fucking Horan and his skills,” he curses the name that he hates with a burning passion. Why is it that he won the masters when he was merely 19, something that’s never been done when Harry, a 17-year-old, who still has yet to graduate college just for his bachelor’s degree? “What do they even see in him?”

Today, Harry has his last tour of the summer, in Scotland, and he thinks he has his favourite caddy, Zayn, on the waitlist. Outside of work, they’re best mates, who buys each other drinks and such.

Zayn is a twenty-one part-time student at Oxford, who’s double major in Arts and English. He says his father used to golf and he sort of caddied for him once in a while. Also, by becoming a caddy, he has extra money, other than modelling for local magazines.

It’s well-known caddies get partial prize money for who they caddy for so in last three years of knowing Zayn, Harry won all the classics and opens he’s been to, giving Zayn a fair bit of money as well.

“You son of a bitch,” Harry growls when he finds out his fridge is empty other than the strawberry-rhubarb jam and peach-mango jam, and maybe couple boxes of Chinese takeaway. “He forgot to go grocery shopping!”

Mad, Harry storms into Zayn’s room and pushes him off of the bed. The half-asleep Bradford-native grumbles about how Harry is grumpy 80% of his awake time and rubs at his eyes.

“You’re the worst flatmate ever.” Zayn provides, getting himself into an upright position.

“You forgot to do some grocery shopping,” Harry points at the slices of bread he has for breakfast, not the usual Frosted Cornflake he enjoys. “You suck at being my friend.”

“Ditto,” Zayn hugs a pillow close to his chest, closing his eyes again. “Are you going to practice swings today? The tour starts at ten-fifteen.”

“It’s already quarter to seven and I – we – have the plane at eight.” With that, Harry grabs Zayn’s hands and drag him to the cab waiting for them. Thank God they packed the night before.

-

“You’re horrible,” Niall growls into the pillow, in the plane, as his caddy, Louis, smiles at him with mad grin. “I don’t have to play in junior open undercover! I may be 19 but that doesn’t mean I still qualify there!”

“But they invited you! I can give you a, I don’t know, black wig and send you off so you can scope out who will be the toughest opponent when they come to the open in Las next week!” Louis, the dickwad he is, doubles as Niall’s manager and he thinks it’s brill to compete in a fucking _junior_ just for the sport of it. “Or you can be their commentator.” No matter the age, the Las Vegas open officials said whoever wins the Edinburgh tournament qualifies.

“Brunet wig,” he barters before grabbing a pair of golf shorts.

-

“There’s a last-minute competitor and he looks really fit,” Zayn informs Harry, who is busy with cleaning his clubs that will be dirtied. “His name is James or summat, and I checked his record, and it’s clean.”

“Zayn, just because you had a fling with that other caddy couple months ago at a classic doesn’t make you bi,” Harry looks at the shining clubs with pride, loving how clean it looks.

“Yeah, but I did blow you couple weeks ago when we were pissed,” Zayn sticks his tongue out, making Harry choke on air. “You shouldn’t buy me drinks.”

“Fuck you,” Harry says joyfully, putting the club in the bag and heading out to the course.

It’s unusually sunny in Edinburgh and all the players seem to be ready. There’s one player, with natural looking light brown hair sticking under his white hat, who seems to be looking everywhere. He has on a Ray-Bans sunglasses, with white slacks and blue-and-white striped tee over it. His general skin is, well, pale, and there’s something about the player that looks familiar to the young player.

How’s that even possible?

“Hello!” The brunet walks over to Harry and extends his hand. “My name is James. Since I’m 18, I guess I still qualify for juniors.” He smiles when Harry shakes his hand.

“Harry, but you might have heard of me,” Harry smiles back, deciding he likes this James. “Being the last year’s Junior Masters champion and all.”

“Ooh, I knew you looked familiar! You were all over the media!” For a second James doesn’t quite sound English like he did and Harry frowns. What the hell was that? “You’re a rising star.”

“I guess you can call it that,” Harry shrugs as he hears the announcement for the players and caddies to report to the first hole.

With some luck or _un_ luck, Harry is paired with the James person, someone he doesn’t really trust.

“Mind if I go first?” James asks and when Zayn takes a look at his caddy, he gasps. He proper splutters and shite like that. “Um, what’s wrong with your caddy?”

“Holy shit, your caddy is Louis Tomlinson?” James’ caddy – Louis – seems to recognise Zayn as well. Harry takes another look at Louis and sees that he has a rather round arse.

Oh shit.

“What’s wrong with that?” James frowns, at least Harry thinks he is, and gives Louis a look. “I mean, caddies caddy for different golf players all the time.”

“Yeah, but Louis told me that he likes caddying for Niall Horan,” Zayn says it and Harry doesn’t miss how James’ face drops for an entire second. “But I guess he can caddy for someone else.”

“Niall’s my best friend as well as my favourite player to caddy for he’s taking a break today,” Louis, whose blue eyes hold a shade or two of green and look impenetrable, informs them. “This little fucker called me to ask me for a caddy. Did once or twice before.”

“Well, we’re the fourth group to go so get ready, you talkative person.” Zayn keeps looking at both Louis and James, like he has his suspicions.

About an hour later, it’s Harry’s – and James’ but who cares? – turn to go and Harry watches Niall get his driver out. It’s a square one, and Harry’s heard about how hard it is to master a square driver. Apparently, it gives you good yardage but the downside is that your swing has to be perfect.

Harry sees Niall’s green ball soar into the sky, and lands pretty much in the middle of the fairway. He curses under his breath and gets his own driver out, determined to best the older chav. He makes his swing and his ball lands in the fairway, a bit too close to the rough for his liking.

“Nice shot, Harry,” James dips his hat. “But I think we both know who’s going to win this.”

-

It’s been six holes and yeah, James is at lead with -3 and Harry is right behind with -2. Harry doesn’t like losing, no, since he has his championship to defend. He hasn’t lost a match since last year so it’s an underestimate to say that he’s a bit furious.

“Well, I hear Hole 7 is a bitch,” James comments, getting his driver out. His caddy, Louis, whispers something into James’ ear, which he brushes off. “Maybe we’ll both get lucky?”

“The wind’s against us,” Zayn informs.

“I kinda know that already,” Harry scowls at his caddy. God, he’s supposed to help _Harry_ not James. “Now please shut up.”

Zayn glares at Harry but does as he’s told.

James makes his swing and fuck, it’s another perfect one. Harry growls inside his head as he gets his driver out. He practices once before making his swing, his ball soaring into the sky, then dipping down into the middle of the fairway. It’s further than James’ SO TAKE THAT.

“Huh, didn’t know you had it in ya,” James teases as they start walking towards their balls. “So tell me, how long have you been a golfer?”

“Well, I started taking lessons when I was, like, eleven,” Harry decides there’s no harm in telling the older golfer. “I always watched golf tournaments on the telly and thought it was awesome so my parents decided to let me take a couple lessons. They didn’t know I’d fall in love with it. Soon enough, I started competing in the tournaments and look at where that brought me – a title of a champion for juniors. What about you?”

“Eh, started golfing when I was twelve. Been to couple tournaments and maybe won all of them.”

“But I’ve never seen you before?” Harry frowns. Surely he’d have heard James’ name when he won the tournaments.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Hole 7 is a par five hole, and James decides to use second wood for his second shot. Harry doubts that’ll make it to the green though.

To Harry’s disbelief, James’ ball does more than making it to the green; it’s a fucking albatross.

“Hm, I suppose I got lucky,” James chuckles, giving the wood to his caddy. “Even though there was a wind against us.”

“No fucking way,” Harry feels his jaw dropping to the grass. “There’s no fucking way you just made that albatross.”

“I believe my score is -6 now, dearest Harold,” James smirks at the younger boy. “I think your winning streak has come to an end.”

Harry grits his teeth together before grabbing his own second wood and makes a swing. His ball lands very close to the cup and he makes an eagle.

Harry -4, James -6.

-

The first game ends with Harry with the score of -5 and James with -7. Harry can’t believe he got bested by some unknown cunt. Really, he doesn’t want to lose to this James.

He spots Zayn and Louis talking to each other in hushed tones and when Harry nears them, they stop talking.

“Wow, were you plotting my murder?” Harry jokes, which both of the caddies scowl at. “Were you talking about something important?”

“Not really, though he wants a piece of my arse,” Zayn elbows Louis at the comment. “I’m not even sorry.”

“He’s horrible,” Zayn grouses. “Anyways, Louis told me James has been to couple of tournaments and won every one of them. You got a steep competition, Harold.”

“Don’t call me Harold,” Harry slaps away Zayn’s hand that’s patting at the top of his head. “Where’s my hotel room?”

“It’s room 413, and you’re sharing it with James,” Zayn gives Harry an apologetic look. “If you shag him, do tell me the details.”

“Ew no.”

-

“I requested single room! What the hell am I supposed to do with me wig now?” Niall yells at his caddy furiously. “Harry will find out who I am!”

“Calm your balls, Horan,” Louis looks rather calm, despite the given circumstance. “Just wear the fucking thing to bed.”

“Oh, like it’s that easy,” Niall rolls his eyes at his caddy for last couple years. “It’s gonna fall off me head whilst I sleep.”

“If wigs fell off that easily, Hannah Montana wouldn’t have kept her secret for so long,” Niall reprimands with a slap on Louis’ bum. “Okay, I’ll stop. But please, I know I got a fantastic arse but stop slapping it.”

“You’re so cocky,” Niall grunts before snatching his room key from Louis’ hand and goes off to the fourth floor.

When Niall gets to the room, he sees that Harry already took a shower and is only in his tight Calvin Klein briefs. He feels his cheeks burn up from the sight in front of him, which Harry raises his brow at.

“Never saw a lad half-naked before?” The quizzical look is replaced with a smirk now, making Niall boil with unknown rage. “Feel free to ogle me, James.”

“Fuck you,” Niall retorts brilliantly, dragging his luggage to his bed. Well, he picks the one on the left, which Harry doesn’t have a problem with. “If you go through my stuff or anything like that whilst I’m in the shower, I’m calling the cops.”

“Do I look like a type to snoop through people’s personal belongings?” Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I respect other’s privacy.”

 _You’d better. I don’t want anyone to find out I’m at a fucking junior classic,_ Niall thinks silently.

Niall takes his pyjama bottom and a new pair of boxers to the bathroom. He tries to not think about how pissed he is that he’s playing in a junior open. Well, he’s winning but Harry is right behind him with score of -5. He knows that he’s gonna reveal himself as Niall Horan and let whoever comes in second place have the ‘ticket’ to the masters in Vegas next week.

Because he has to wear a wig to bed, he decides to blow dry his hair, so Harry won’t question why his ‘hair’ is dry. Fucking Louis, he really wants to strangle his caddy right now.

“There’s nothing on the telly, other than the Golf Channel playing your albatross over and over again,” Harry pouts when Niall gets out of the bathroom. “They’re saying it’s the best shot ever seen at the course we golfed at.”

“Are they?” _Did they say I’m actually not James, but Niall?_ “S’pose they were surprised then.”

“It was a bloody good shot,” Harry admits it, making Niall smirk. “Anyways, I’m gonna sleep now. We got three more games, don’t we?”

Harry walks over to turn the lights off. The last thing on Niall’s mind before he drifts off to sleep is how Harry’s lips would feel against his.

-

It’s day three and Harry really dislikes how he’s second to James. James is at -10 whilst Harry himself is at -8. It looks like James bloke is going to win this tournament, and the entry to masters at Las Vegas next week.

Fucking hell.

“Someone’s tad bit mad,” Harry hears Zayn say in a teasing manner. “James is rather a good player, you gotta admit that.”

“I haven’t lost a tournament since last year!” Harry huffs as they make their way to the restaurant. “I hate Niall.”

“Hate sex always resolves things,” Harry hits his caddy/best friend in the arm. “You’re too violent for my liking!”

“Then don’t say stupid, meaningless stuff!” Harry tells the hostess his last name for the reservation.

And of course, James chose to dine in the same restaurant.

“Fancy seeing you here, Harry!” James gives him an honest smile, which Harry doesn’t particularly like. “I see you got your caddy with you.”

“Same with you,” with some _luck_ , Harry’s table is close to James’. “Do you personally know him?”

“Been friends with him for some time,” James shrugs as their servers bring them the menus. “How ‘bout you?”

“Eh, can say the same thing.”

-

The dinner went well and Harry found out James has a voluptuous appetite. (Can he use that word for appetite? He thinks he can.) For a skinny person, James sure as hell eats a lot.

“That was lovely, wasn’t it?”

Harry gets startled when James enters their shared hotel room.

“I guess so,” Harry shrugs as James walks towards him, going for his luggage last minute. “Gonna shower?”

“Yeah, wanna join?” James winks at him, but Harry brushes it off.

Tomorrow, he’s gonna try his best to win the fucking tournament.

-

“I think Harry hates you.”

Niall rolls his eyes at his caddy’s observation. He and Harry are at the last hole of the course and well, he’s winning with -14 solo lead with Harry behind him with -11. If what Niall heard is true, that kid hasn’t lost a single match since last year.

“I think the death glares are dead giveaways,” Niall gets the iron 3 from Louis for his next shot. “Really, I’d hate me too if I were him, given his rep.”

“If hate sex happens, lemme join,” Niall hits Louis’ bum with the iron part of his iron very _lightly_. “I’m kidding! Only one I sort of fancy is that Zayn dude… you know, Harry’s caddy?”

“He looks straight to me,” Niall growls inside his head since Louis is breaking his concentration. “And will you hush up?”

“Zayn and I shagged once, when he wasn’t caddying for Harry couple months ago… God, he’s such a good shag.”

“I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t hear that,” Niall replies before making his shot. It lands on green close to the cup. “Where’s Harry?”

“Looking for me?” Harry replies before trudging off to his own ball.

“You know you have to give the entry to Harry, right? You’re not exactly a junior golfer,” Louis whispers once Harry is out of the earshot. “You said it yourself you’re going to reveal yourself as Niall at the end.”

“Well, the end won’t be here for couple hours.”

-

Harry lost the tournament. Well, he came in second place, second to James. All the players finished the course and now there’s the closing shite.

“Wait!” James suddenly bursts out, making his way to the jurors. “You guys should know the truth!”

James reaches for his hair and fuck, that was just a wig? He takes his sunglasses as well, revealing his crystalline blue eyes.

“I’m Niall Horan and I was invited to play for his tournament. I didn’t intend to win this but I guess I did… so since Harry Styles came in second, I give him the entry for next week’s Las Vegas masters,” Niall announces, then hops off of the podium.

Did that just happen?

-

“I had no fucking clue, _not a chance_ , that you were _the_ Niall Horan!” Harry has Niall pinned to the wall beside their shared room. “Why did you keep that from everyone?”

“Surprise? The Edinburgh tournament jurors invited me themselves. My caddy sort of dragged me there,” Niall raises his hands in defence, not even trying to get Harry to release his grip. “You’re qualified to go to the Las Vegas masters since I’m letting you, isn’t that enough?”

“Fuck you.”

Harry doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he presses his lips to Niall’s, with zero finesse whatsoever. Niall lets out a startled gasp but kisses back, forgetting the current situation. Harry takes the lead and pries the older’s lips apart, spiking his tongue against Niall’s. They both groan into the kiss, Harry’s grip on Niall’s collar now loosened. They fumble into their room with Harry on top of Niall, still lip-locked.

“Wait,” Niall protests once their clothes are removed. “Do you have lube? And a condom?”

“Um, I have one of those two,” Harry reaches down to his luggage and pulls out a bottle of lube. “I don’t need condoms to wank.”

“I trust you then,” Niall replies as Harry slathers some lube on his dick. He positions himself at Niall’s entrance, then pushes in slowly. Harry realises Niall is fucking tight, _really_ tight, and there’s hella resistance.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles once he’s fully sheathed. He feels like his dick is suffocating. “You’re so tight.”

“Haven’t been with many people,” Niall blushes, which is a cute sight. “And I don’t normally go around shagging my opponents from the golf tournament.”

“I’m a special case then?”

“Yeah.”

Harry starts to thrust in and out of Niall, rejoicing in little noises the Irishman is making. The older lets out a gasp when Harry thrusts in at a certain angle and Harry guesses he found his prostate. He drives in at the same angle and it doesn’t take long before Niall’s walls start to clench around his dick. Niall releases in spurts, a bit of the release landing on Harry’s chest. Harry thrusts couple more time before he releases deep inside of Niall. He pulls out after catching his breath, then cuddles to Niall’s side.

“You aren’t bad at shagging,” Niall comments, kissing Harry’s shoulder. “Do you feel something?”

“Yeah, I feel like we can work, So,” Harry looks up into Niall’s crystalline blue eyes. “Go out with me?”

“Of course.”

Harry may have lost the tournament but he won Niall’s heart.


End file.
